needs
by ShadowsTakeAll
Summary: And nobody notices the banshee and the werecoyote, holding hands up the back of the stands. [or: the three times Lydia and Malia kiss.]


**This is all Runawaybaby555's fault. Also mine for having no self-control. This is a vaguely AU Lydia/Malia crack fic and I officially have no idea what I'm doing with my life anymore.**

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X

/

The first time takes both of them by surprise.

It happens on a Monday afternoon, last period of the day. Lydia marches up to Malia's locker, fire in her eyes and her hair bouncing around her shoulders; Malia doesn't even look at her.

"Listen here," the banshee growls, "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing -"

"I'm getting my books from my locker." Malia gestures to her locker as if to prove her point. "I hear that's what high school students do."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "I don't mean what you're doing right now," she snaps, "I mean what you're doing in general. With your life."

Malia blinks. "I was a coyote for eight years," she reminds her, "I don't really have a ten-year plan and a folder full of career goals."

The last words are said with an accompanying look at the folder Lydia's holding, which she clutches defensively to her chest. "It's not just career goals," she mumbles, "it's got my resume and -"

"Whatever," Malia cuts her off, closes her locker, and then looks at the strawberry blonde girl in front of her. "Can I go to class now?"

Instinctively Lydia starts to move to the side, and then she remembers why she came here. "No," she says, her hand shooting out to stop Malia in her path. She looks down at her hand, resting on Malia's chest, and withdraws it after just a second too long. "I want to know what the hell you've been doing to Stiles."

"Stiles?" Malia echoes, genuinely startled. "Why do you think I've been doing something to _Stiles_?"

Lydia folds her arms. "He has scratches down his back. And since you're the only werecoyote in town I figured -"

"It wasn't me," Malia says flatly, brushing past Lydia. Then she turns and gives her a look that would be mocking if not for the glint of amusement in her eyes. "You know, for a genius you can be pretty thick sometimes."

The werecoyote turns to leave, but Lydia catches her arm. Malia turns back to her, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Insult me all you want," Lydia says, struggling to keep the anger out of her voice, "but just leave Stiles alone, okay? He's a good guy, and he doesn't deserve to be strung along by someone like you, and I know you were a coyote for years but that doesn't give you the right to -"

Her words stop abruptly as Malia's lips meets hers. Lydia's so shocked that she doesn't react, doesn't even register what's happened until Malia pulls away.

"What was that for?" Lydia asks finally, her hand drifting to her mouth as if to make sure this really happened – although at this stage she's not sure whether she hopes it did or not.

Malia shrugs, seemingly carefree, despite the way her heart is pounding in her chest. Damn is she glad Lydia's not a werewolf right now. "I just needed you to stop talking," she says airily. Then she turns and strides away, leaving Lydia gaping after her.

/

The second time is a little more expected.

It's about a week after the first, during a party at Danny's house. Kira dragged Lydia to it, and Stiles dragged Malia, and Scott showed up more to keep an eye on his pack than because he wants to party, and now all five of them are sitting around the pool.

Lydia finds herself next to Malia, and she tries her best to ignore her. They haven't spoken since the kiss, and Stiles hasn't turned up with any new scratches. Malia seems oblivious to Lydia's presence; she's happily chatting with Scott, who's on her other side.

After a while, when the punch begins to run out and the music starts to get louder, the group splinters. Kira goes in search of more chips, Stiles and Scott disappear into the house. It's just the banshee and the coyote, and neither of them know what to do.

After a while Lydia clears her throat. "Nice party," she says.

"Mhm." Malia looks at her and then away again quickly. "Good food."

"Yeah." Lydia swings her feet back and forth above the water. "Great music."

Malia doesn't answer, because her mind is spinning elsewhere. Finally, without looking at Lydia, she says quietly, "It wasn't me."

"What?" Lydia's voice is so startled that Malia turns to look at her. Their eyes meet, and electricity shoots through both of them.

"The scratches on Stiles' back? It wasn't me." Malia shrugs, still meeting Lydia's gaze, and then she says, "It was Scott."

This is news to Lydia, and it takes a while for her to process. Finally she lets out a thoughtful hum. "So Scott and Stiles, huh?"

"Yeah." There's laughter in Malia's voice, and Lydia finds herself smiling in response.

"Well," Lydia says eventually, "that actually explains a lot."

They share a laugh, and then they fall back into silence. But it's comfortable this time – outwardly, at least. Lydia's wondering how she can apologize to Malia without losing face, and Malia's wondering whether it would be socially appropriate to kiss Lydia again.

Neither of them act on their feelings, and the party gradually winds down. But then, when they think it's almost over, a bunch of guys from the lacrosse team show up. They're loud and they're drunk, and Lydia quickly gets to her feet and starts moving away from them. Malia follows her, which she doesn't mind at all.

When they get inside, Lydia notices that Malia's eyes are blue and her claws are out. She's breathing heavily, and Lydia doesn't need to be a werewolf to know that the other girl's heart rate is elevated way beyond normal levels.

"Hey," Lydia says in concern, her hand alighting briefly on Malia's arm before she moves it up to her shoulder instead, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Malia grits out, but it really doesn't sound like she is. "I just – I don't like crowds – and they're all so -"

She trails off, wordlessly shaking her head, and Lydia knows what's happening. So she does the only thing she can think of.

She kisses her.

Malia is so surprised she holds her breath, but then she's kissing back, and Lydia forgets about the party and the people around them and even the fact that she'd thought she hated the werecoyote. This feels right, and that's all that matters.

When they break apart, Malia's eyes are back to their normal color and her claws are gone. "Why did you do that?" she asks breathlessly.

Lydia smiles, still feel breathless herself. "I just needed you to hold your breath," she says. Then, without a word, she pulls Malia to her feet and they leave the party together.

/

The third time doesn't take either of them by surprise.

It's two weeks after the party, and Lydia and Malia have been spending more time together. They've been studying after school, sitting together at lunch, calling each other every night. Neither of them are sure how it happened, but they don't mind.

At the first lacrosse game of the season, Scott and Stiles come out as a couple. They get a standing ovation. And nobody notices the banshee and the werecoyote, holding hands up the back of the stands. That's just the way they like it.

The night of the full moon, Lydia is having a family dinner. Her mother had insisted on it, saying she wanted Lydia to meet her new boyfriend – who, as it turns out, is none other than Peter Hale.

So Lydia is understandably glad when her phone goes off. "I have to go," she announces, and she's gone without waiting for a response.

Behind her, Mrs Martin rolls her eyes, and Peter mutters something about young love.

When Lydia shows up at Malia's house, the front door is already open. She makes her way inside and straight up to Malia's room. At first she can't see the werecoyote, but then she notices a shape in the corner. Flicking on the light, the room comes into sharp relief. Malia is in the far corner, her arms wrapped around her knees, half coyoted-out.

Lydia approaches her slowly, talking to her the whole time, and finally Malia looks up. Their eyes meet, and Malia's growl turns into a low whine. Still moving slowly, Lydia crouches down in front of her, taking Malia's hands in hers. "You're okay," she murmurs, "I'm here."

It takes almost an hour, but finally Malia gets back in control. And the first thing she does is kiss Lydia, full on the lips and more passionately than she ever has. This time they're not surprised; this time it was almost expected.

But still, out of habit more than anything else, Lydia asks, "Why did you do that?"

Malia smiles, still holding onto Lydia's hands. "I just... needed you."

Somehow it seems like the most logical answer in the world. Lydia curls up beside her, head on Malia's shoulder, and they fall asleep still holding hands.

/

X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X


End file.
